/   ; Y. 

**  -          ."  •-       .  * 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 

Thomas  Q.  Lemper tz 


SONNETS 


SONNETS 

BY 

FANNY  PURDY  PALMER 


PAUL  ELDER  #>  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS  •  SAN  FRANCISCO 


Copyright,  1909 
by  Paul  Elder  and  Company 


PS 


TO  MY  DAUGHTER 
HENRIETTA 

I  INSCRIBE  THESE  RECORDS  OF 

SCENES  IN  WHICH  WE  HAVE  BEEN  TOGETHER, 

AND  OF  THOUGHTS  AND  FANCIES 

WHICH  WE  HAVE  SO  OFTEN 

DISCUSSED  IN  LOVING 

SYMPATHY 


8808 


CONTENTS 

PART  I  — SONNETS  OF  CALIFORNIA 

f  * 5 

CALIFORNIA^  II 6 

I  III 7 

THE  MEADOW-LARK 8 

A  SEA-GULL 9 

MY  GARDEN  BY  THE  SEA 10 

MONTEREY  CYPRESS 11 

WHEN  THE  OVERLAND  STARTS  EAST 12 

LA  JOLLA 13 

IN  A  CANYON 14 

THE  CARMEL  VALLEY  FROM  THE  RIVER'S  MOUTH ....  15 

ROSES 16 

SEA  FOG 17 

NEW  YEAR'S  EVE 18 

PART  II— POST  MERIDIEM 

COMPENSATION 25 

QUENCH  NOT  THE  FIRES 26 

TEMPERAMENT 27 

CHOOSING 28 

NEGLECT 29 

IN  THE  MAKING 30 

JUDGED  BY  THE  SPHINX 31 

GEORGE  MEREDITH 32 

OUT  OF  THE  EAST 33 

VIKINGS 34 

MY  BOOKS 35 

GREEK  ART 36 

PENALTY 37 

SPECULATION.    .     .  ...  38 


SONNETS  OF  CALIFORNIA 


'Regions  Caesar  Never  Knew." 


CALIFORNIA 

i. 

DISTINCTIVELY  adorned,  with  joy 
caressed 
By  sun  and  wind,  for  Her  exalted  seat 
The  rocks  are  gold-inlaid,  and  at  Her  feet 
An  Ocean  brings  its  argosies  to  rest. 
Pensive  Her  mien,  for  close  within  her  breast 
Forest  and  stream  and  shining  sands  secrete 
The  stories  of  adventurous  lives  replete 
With  daring  hopes  staked  on  some  baffled  Quest. 
Thro'  meadows  green  She  muses  on  her  past 
When  Mission  bells  ring  out  their  call  to  prayer; 
Or,  rapt  in  Self,  surveys  Her  heavens  that  brood 
O'er  lofty  Peaks  with  lonely  Valleys  vast — 
The  bees  drone  heavy  in  the  honeyed  air, 
The  Mourning  Dove  laments  in  solitude. 


CALIFORNIA 

ii. 

stolid  Indian's  tread  had  crossed  this 

land, 
Crossed  and  recrossed  and  left  but  scanty 

trace, 

When,  from  afar,  men  of  a  bolder  race 
Sighted  its  shores,  set  foot  upon  its  sand 
With  praise  to  God ;  In  haste,  as  rovers,  planned 
Return:  An  interval — and  then — gold  lace, 
Doubloons,  fandangoes,  senoritas'  grace ! 
But,  steadily,  by  plain  and  pass,  a  band 
Of  Fortune's  soldiers  armored  for  the  age 
With  wit  and  vigor ;  for  the  Wilds  endowed 
With  prescient  resource,  strength  of  stubborn  wills, 
Came  pressing  on  to  this — their  heritage, 
Seeing  in  dreams  its  future  cities  proud 
Of  palaces  made  worthy  of  their  hills. 


CALIFORNIA 

in. 

COMPOSITE,  unassimilable,  crude 
As  Her  unsmelted  ores,  the  social  state 
Where  differing  races  struggle  to  create 
Their  planes  of  life  anew.  Needs  must 

intrude 

Fallacious  dreams,  false  reasonings  which  delude 
Th'  unpracticed  mind ;  But,  She'll  in  time  be  great 
Enough  to  find,  amid  the  turns  of  fate, 
The  Way  to  shun — the  Way  to  be  pursued. 
Purples  and  gold  in  groves  and  orchards  glow, 
And,  housed  in  pearl,  the  Abalones  cling 
To  the  wet  rocks :  Mid  fairest  scenes  at  home 
Her  people  dwell,  and  tides  of  travel  flow 
From  ends  of  earth; — Such  various  folk  they  bring 
As  once  they  brought  up  to  the  Caesars'  Rome. 


THE  MEADOW-LARK 

Sweet  Master  of  Strange  Dialects  of  Tune. 

'LERT  his  eye,  half  hushed  his  liquid  note 
When  twilight  gathers  where  the  barley 

green 
For  his  rough  nest  provides  a  doubtful 

screen; 

But  bold  and  high  bursts  from  his  swelling  throat — 
In  praise  of  the  brown  mate  not  far  remote — 
His  morning  lay, — a  loud  rejoicing  paean 
Wherein  the  joy  of  living  well  has  been 
Resolved  anew.  Later,  at  times  he'll  quote 
Some  jargon,  with  a  muffled  trill  to  add 
Confidingly,  "  I'm  one  of  you^  Not  bad' 
Ripe  cherries,  eh ! "  Then,  settled  for  a  stay, 
He  brings  his  friends,  melodiously  gay, 
To  revel  with  him  while  the  world 's  in  tune 
And  play  the  Bacchant  'mong  the  grapes  at  noon. 


8 


A  SEA-GULL 

nE  WAS  not  born  a  safe  and  happy  bird 
To  pledge  his  mate  in  April  evenings  how 
Sweet  fruits  would  hang  at  length  from 
yon  slim  bough 

To  feed  their  callow  brood.  Too  soon  he  heard 
From  an  imperilled  nest  the  fateful  word 
That  calls  each  to  its  own:  'Twas  his  to  know 
The  driving  gale,  the  spent  ship's  battered  prow, 
The  wild  tide-vigil ;  and  so,  undeterred 
He  gave  the  waves  his  wings !  His  frightened  heart 
Of  all  those  thundering  breakers  felt  the  start ! 
No  shelter  but  the  cliff  for  his  white  breast 
Where,  panting,  mid  the  cold  salt  spray  'tis  pressed: 
And  last  a  wave-washed  beach  and  wreck-strewn 

shore 
And  beaten  bird — whose  stormy  life  is  o'er. 


MY  GARDEN  BY  THE  SEA 

I  MADE  a  garden  by  th'  unmindful  Sea 
So  close,  the  breakers  tossed  among  the 
flowers 
Their  flecks  of  foam !  Yet,  in  serener  hours 
Profuse  and  brilliant,  wonderful  to  see, 
My  flowers  outvied  the  waves'  temerity : 
Lamarques  and  Banksias  flung  their  bloom  in 

showers; 
From  the  Old  World — with  legends  for  their 

dowers — 

Iris  and  Cinerarias:  Glad  to  be 
The  gayest  of  them  all  Geraniums  red 
As  Cardinals'  hats  their  dazzling  clusters  spread, 
And  Chinese  Lilies  stood  in  rows — so  white 
You  saw  them  even  in  the  darkest  night. 
All  was  most  fair!  and  then — th'  unmindful  Sea 
With  its  grey  Breath  effaced  my  flowers  and  me ! 


10 


MONTEREY  CYPRESS 

SENTINELS  old,  posted  along  the  way 
Beyond  my  garden's  bounds — a  rugged 

Band 
Of  Natives  staunch,  born  to  the  salt  sea 

sand, 

The  fog's  embrace,  the  Winter  wind's  rough  play ! 
In  sombre  garb  they  greet  their  Captain  grey 
When  south  winds  lash  his  tides  to  loud  command ! — 
The  tokens  of  his  rage  they  understand 
And  shuddering  at  their  posts  his  Will  obey. 
Nothing  to  them  is  nfan's  intrusive  care, 
For  lives  apart  they  lead  beside  the  sea 
Rooted  in  creviced  cliffs,  where  breakers  dare 
Stretch  wind-curled  arms  to  clasp  the  twisted  tree 
That,  yielding,  harkens  to  the  roar  and  moan 
Of  the  wild  ocean  when  it  calls  its  own ! 


11 


WHEN  THE  OVERLAND  STARTS 
EAST 

'OOD-BYES  all  spoken:  One  last  restless 

light 

Still  flashing  on  the  gear  till  word  shall  tell 
The  moment  come  when,  with  slow 

clanging  bell, 

And  like  some  living  creature  stretched  for  flight, 
The  long  train  moves  beyond  our  straining  sight. 
The  night  wind 's  in  our  faces.  "  Is  it  well," 
It  cries,  "  to  part  thus  ?  Fear  ye  not  Farewell  ?  " 
'Tis  true  we  fear  it.  Few  things  can  requite 
Th'  attachments  we  abandon.  Speeds  the  train! — 
Grappling  with  mountains,  plunged  in  snow-sheds 

grim, 

Skimming  the  desolate  Lake,  across  the  plain 
Hastening  to  city  brisk  and  village  trim : 
Ocean  to  Ocean  traversed! — We  again 
Turn  to  the  mountain  Wall,  the  sunset's  Rim. 


12 


LA  JOLLA 

BARB,  brown  coast  that  curves  to  meet 
the  Sea, 

With  caves  and  clifis  where  gulls  and  cur 
lews  dwell, 

And  riven  rocks  whose  wave-worn  tables  tell 
The  Past's  long  story  unforgetfully. 
High  tides  that  hold  their  daily  Jubilee 
With  flying  foam  and  .roar,  that  leap  and  swell 
Till  the  swift  Ebb  drowning  its  own  wild  knell 
Bears  all  the  billows  back  regretfully ; 
The  sky  is  blue  above,  the  sea  below, — 
If  care  or  sorrow  ever  crossed  thy  lot 
Rest  here  and  drink  of  sea  and  sky  thy  fill, 
Learn  Ocean's  Secrets  when  the  tides  are  low, 
And  hear  the  lark  sing !  while  in  yonder  spot 
The  Silent  Sunrise  crowns  the  lonely  hill. 


13 


IN  A  CANYON 


way  leads  out?  Where  was  the 

entrance  to 
This  strange  domain?  No  answer  but  the 

sound 

Of  your  own  footfall  in  the  narrow  bound 
Whose  lofty  walls  close  round  you  to  the  blue: 
Here,  in  the  shade  a  Shape  looks  down  on  you;  — 
A  Giant  Warrior  crouched  against  a  mound, 
His  narrow  brow  with  one  tall  Yucca  crowned 
He  waits,  till  ancient  foes  their  feuds  renew. 
There,  in  the  sun  up  arid  heights  afar 
Clambers  the  lonely  desert's  "bearded  brood," 
While  thick  along  your  way  the  Shooting  Star 
With  its  pale  grace  and  scent  of  solitude,  — 
A  Spirit  more  than  blossom  —  flowers  alone 
Within  the  Canyon's  jealous  heart,  unknown. 


14 


THE  CARMEL  VALLEY  FROM  THE 
RIVER'S  MOUTH 

HIND  me  new  feelings,  Heart !  New  vision, 
Eyes! 
For  words  befitting  beauty  that  I've 
brought 

From  other  scenes,  for  this  avail  me  naught. 
Beyond  these  dunes,  where  wooded  Mountains  rise, 
The  sense  beholds  the  Earth  in  Heaven's  disguise 
And,  stirred,  recalls — thro'  vernal  meadows  fraught 
With  broideries  of  flowers  in  symbols  wrought — 
The  mediaeval  dream  of  Paradise! 
Mantled  in  Manzanita  lies  the  way 
Toward  the  Vale:  the  light  of  golden  rose 
That  after  sunset  serves  the  day's  delay 
Is  over  all:  the  shadowy  river  flows — 
Bearing,  along  the  silvery  sands  it  laves, 
The  Willows'  message  to  the  Ocean's  waves. 


15 


ROSES 

'AFRANOS  for  the  young  and  fortunate 
Who,  with  the  roses,  squander  on  an  hour 
The  bloom  that  comes  but  once  to  heart 

or  flower: 

And  fair  Arguello's  rose  for  those  who  wait 
Like  her  for  love's  return  importunate. 
The  lavish  Banksias  for  the  dreamer's  bower, 
And  Brides  significant  their  gifts  to  shower 
On  maids  who  lead  processionals  of  fate. 
With  flaring  petals  wide  the  Cherokee 
Takes  to  its  heart  the  moonlight's  mystery ; 
And  there 's  a  rose  dear  to  fastidious  eyes, 
In  whose  complex  repose  perfection  lies 
Beauty's  excuse  for  being  to  convey — 
'Tis  called  the  Madam  Abel  Chatenay. 


16 


SEA  FQG 

IMMERGED  are  all  the  mountain  tops  in 
grey 
Of  mists  that  cling  to  sloping  pastures 
green, 

And  on  the  crests,  the  lifting  rifts  between, 
The  shrouded  pines  appear,  to  fade  away 
Like  Phantoms  clad  in  Penitent's  array. 
The  sky  is  lost,  the  fortress'd  point,  and  e'en 
The  sated  sea.  In  sight  of  reefs  unseen 
A  ghostly  ship  to  windward  shuns  the  Bay. 
The  moisture  gathers  in  the  muffled  Wood 
Where  ferns  refreshed  their  plumy  branches  spread, 
And  Lilacs  bud,  as  if  they  understood 
This  medium  of  Dreams  wherein  we  tread 
Beset  by  sparkling  chains  the  spiders  spin, — 
While  from  th'  unsated  sea  the  fog  rolls  in. 


17 


NEW  YEAR'S  EVE 


darkening  day  that  ends  the  dying  Year 
Broods  upon  dusky  wings  within  my  room, 
And  at  the  open  door,  where  roses  bloom, 
Wan,  wavering  Forms,  with  faltering 

steps,  appear 

From  far  and  travel  worn,  to  find  me  Here  ! 
They  are  the  vanished  Years,  which  reassume 
The  guise  they  wore,  peopling  the  twilight  gloom 
With  Memories  more  than  heavy  heart  can  bear  : 
Yet  stay,  poor  Wanderers,  till  the  New  Year's  born 
While  waning  Moon  sinks  in  the  placid  Sea, 
And  the  first  promise  of  a  laggard  morn 
Brings  to  dejected  mood  its  remedy. 
But,  ere  the  light,  back  —  back  to  whence  you  sped! 
For  the  Old  Years,  pale  ghosts,  are  dead  —  are  dead. 


18 


POST  MERIDIEM 


'A  Sonnet  is  a  coin ;  its  face  reveals 
The  soul." 


COMPENSATION 


passionate  Heart,  resenting  in  thy  Day 
Of  lordly  hopes  and  limitless  despair 
Life's  lost  illusions,  let  me  lead  you  where 
Sweet  Nature  hides  her  waste;  in  careless 

way 

Her  waste*  and  losses  Hides  :  In  time  of  May 
'Round  nests  forsook  in  shivering  orchards  bare 
She  flings  her  wreaths  abloom,  and,  blithe  of  air, 
Our  trust  entreats  for  what  the  Orioles  say  ! 
Comes  Autumn  brown  and  lo  !  a  cheat  supreme 
Where  blossom's  pledge  was  false  to  blighted  fruit  ! 
Yet,  ah  !  the  rosy  transport  of  the  Dream 
Before  the  petals  fell  or  song  was  mute, 
The  faith  elate,  th'  apocalyptic  Day, 
Compensate  for  the  life  lived  after  May  ! 


25 


QUENCH  NOT  THE  FIRES 

QUENCH  not  the  fires  that  burn  within  the 
soul 
E'en  though  the  world  smiles  chill  upon 
their  glow: 

But  feed  those  lonely  fires  which  flicker  low 
With  all  that 's  best  out  of  thy  fortune's  dole : 
Thine  ease  consume,  content,  and  proud  control, 
And  love — dear  love !  Some  hearts  must  bear  to 

know 

This  last  bereavement — love  consumed — if  so 
They  feed  the  fires  which  burn  within  the  soul 
Its  utmost  to  inspire.  The  flames  may  blind, 
To  ashes  turn  the  toys  thou  did'st  adore ; 
But  trust  the  light  that  shines.   Fear  not  to  mind 
The  inner  impulse  urging  thee  from  shore 
On  stormy  ventures.  Quicken  thy  desires 
For  ports  beyond  thy  sight.   Quench  not  the  fires ! 


26 


TEMPERAMENT 

'TRONG  souls,  who  seek  through  rending 

tumult  name 

For  their  emotions — eagle-beaked  brood — 
Create  'twixt^hope  and  fear  some  symbol 

rude 

Of  that  conceived  within.  For  love  and  fame — 
Careless  of  shallow  praise  or  shallower  blame — 
They  shape  the  visioned  forms  which  still  elude 
The  comprehension  of  the  multitude, 
And  serve,  devout,  the  Offspring  which  they  claim. 
These  are  the  souls  who  seek  the  Absolute 
In  high  conceits :  entreat  their  verity 
Of  human  lives,  of  stars,  and  mountains  mute ; 
Limners  elect — high  priests  of  ecstasy — 
They  mold,  with  reverent  hand  and  ardent  heart, 
Truth's  bold  reflection  fair, — the  mask  is  Art. 


27 


CHOOSING 

"When  Italf-goda  go,  the  goda  arrive." 

QOT  to  the  cricket  shrill  through  lonesome 
eve 
Nor  to  the  crimson  bough  above  the  pool — 
Mere  incidents  of  Summer's  passing  rule 
Who  with  it  pass  nor  know  to  hope  or  grieve;  — 
To  man  alone  'tis  given  to  perceive 
That,  after  all,  Fate  is  no  poor  misrule, 
But  rather  an  inexorable  school 
Wherein  he  learns  to  endure  and  to  achieve. 
Yet  some  there  are  who  learn  the  first  alone, 
Supinely  learn  to  bear  without  complaint : 
Better  that  riskier  wisdom  gods  condone, 
Some  part  to  act — as  sinner  or  as  saint — 
Winning  maybe,  or,  failing,  to  retreat 
Still  armed  and  upright  before  full  defeat. 


28 


NEGLECT 

"Lofty — still  loftier  than  the  world  suspects." 

ERE  was  a  Book  that  bore  a  message 
kind 

From  a  full  heart  to  an  expected  friend, 
But  no  such  reader  chanced  this  Book  to 

find 

And  such  as  read  there  failed  to  comprehend : 
The  title's  tarnished  now,  the  leaves  are  loose, 
This  clever  book  has  fallen  to  decay; 
Wantonly  slighted,  warped  from  long  abuse, 
None  saw  the  light  that  on  its  pages  lay. 
Yet  was  its  message  worthy  to  be  heard 
Ere  careless  touch  had  blurred  what  insight  penned, 
For  some  faint  hint  of  an  inspired  word 
Clung  to  the  faded  pages  to  the  end, — 
The  aura  of  some  high-born  task  well  done, — 
What  matters  all  the  rest,  neglected  One? 


29 


IN  THE  MAKING 

"The  purpose  of  life  ia  not  happiness  but  development." 

ONE  glimpse  of  beauty  ere  the  clouds  o'er- 
cast 
The  rose  of  dawn !  One  moment  when  we 
lean 

Toward  love  triumphant  till  doubts  intervene 
And  in  their  shadow  Love  and  Dawn  go  past. 
One  little  glimpse! — and  then  while  life  may  last 
With  lowered  eyes  we  plod  a  toilsome  mean, 
That  which  we  would  and  must  stand  faint  between, 
Or  see  our  strength  by  others'  strength  surpassed. 
Yet  is  there  solace  for  his  hampered  lot 
Whose  hurts  are  laid  'neath  patient  Nature's  spell ; 
Feast  of  the  eye,  thrill  of  the  heart  are  not 
Her  purpose  set.  Sufficient  'tis  and  well 
When  pain  and  joy  have  borne  their  fruitage  ripe, 
She  finds  within  her  world  some  nobler  type. 


30 


JUDGED  BY  THE  SPHINX 

HE  Theban  Sphinx  who  watched  the  road 

along, 
With  brooding  eyes  upon  the  moving 

mass, 

Cried,  "Halt!  and  Guess  my  Riddle  ere  you  pass — 
Why  is  Truth's  quest  the  Right— all  else  the 

Wrong?" 

In  state  advanced  the  leader  of  the  throng — 
An  autocrat  whom  none  in  pomp  surpass — 
Flatterers  and  slaves  he  hears,  but  not,  alas ! 
The  still,  small  voice  which  makes  the  spirit  strong. 
He  cannot  answer  what  the  Sphinx  demands, 
No  time  has  he  to  judge  'twixt  false  and  true ! 
"  The  world  needs  only  him  who  understands 
This  difference,"  quoth  the  questioner.   She  grew 
Colossal,  cried :  "  Thus,  sightless  soul,  atone ! " 
And  crushed  a  despot  'gainst  her  breast  of  stone. 


31 


GEORGE  MEREDITH 


®ITH  sovran  strength  he  plied  his  lofty  art, 
Touched  the  world's  pulse  and  felt  its  tell 
tale  beat, 
Yet  nowise  judged  Success,  nor  yet  Defeat. 
Anon  to  us  he  spake  ;  anon,  apart  ; 
And  balanced  held  the  speculative  dart 
His  genius  winged  through  ancient  Forms  effete, 
Through  Pedant,  Egoist,  and  Splendid  Cheat, 
To  sink  and  quiver  in  the  Modern  Heart. 
He  's  gone  !  But  what  he  wrought's  forever  Real  ! 
Think  of  his  Child  of  light  condemned  to  pay 
The  costs  of  Love  ;  of  Adriatic's  breeze 
And  Otley's  sullen  waves  wherein  we  feel 
The  Tragedy  of  type  that  lives  for  aye 
In  Mad  Commander  and  his  French  Marquise  ! 


32 


OUT  OF  THE  EAST    , 

On  the  defeat  of  Italian  troops  in  Abyssinia  by  Menelek,  March  23,  1896. 

OUT  of  the  East— like  Baal  of  the  past 
A  thing  of  fear — a  creature  of  the  night, 
A  Power  of  Darkness  threatening  Europe's 
light, 

Has  risen — like  a  huge  Iconoclast! 
But  noble  land  there  is  of  resource  vast, 
And  noble  race  elect  to  stay  this  blight : 
Already  art  thou  girding  for  the  fight, 
O  English  land !  Thy  whole  heroic  past 
And  crucial  present  bid  thee  draw  the  sword 
This  battle  royal  for  the  world  to  gain, 
And  all  thy  Kinsmen  pledge  thee  Time's  reward 
For  standards  bravely  borne  with  cost  and  pain 
Where  English  valor,  conquering,  strikes  the  spark 
That  lightens  all  the  dull  barbaric  Dark! 


33 


VIKINGS 

SROM  stormy  shores,  red-bearded  Norseman 
bold,— 
From  stormy  shores  over  an  unknown  sea 
Thou  cam'st, — yet  left  not  to  futurity 
Record  of  conflict  fierce  for  power  or  gold; 
No  lands  despoiled,  no  captives  sought  to  hold. 
Soul-stirred  with  novel  joy !  elate  with  free 
Dream  of  illimitable  liberty, — 

Thou  cam'st, — and  went, — thy  story  strange  untold. 
Yet  still  while  poets  sing  they  11  celebrate 
The  fair-haired  crew  who  roamed  Rhode  Island's 

shore; 

Still  with  their  haunting  presence  consecrate 
Wild  Vinland  and  bleak  coast :  and,  evermore, 
On  reckless  bark  which  to  the  gale  puts  forth, 
See  phantom  Vikings  steering  for  the  North. 


34 


MY  BOOKS 

I  LOVE  you  well,  beloved !  Companions 
dear, 
There  was  a  time  when  other  friends  were 
few, 

Dull  days,  dark  years  through  which  I  found  in  you 
The  bread  to  strengthen  and  the  wine  to  cheer. 
Lewes!  'twas  through  thy  subtle  insight  clear 
I  first  divined  the  dispensation  new : 
Then,  Laureate,  burst  thy  vision  on  my  view — 
Of  "statelier  Edens"  seen  from  poet's  sphere. 
Pale  Bronte,  and  thou  stronger  woman-soul, 
Your  patient  strength  has  lightened  all  my  load; 
Spencer !  thy  mighty  grasp  will  ere  control 
My  toiling  thought  along  truth's  arduous  road. 
Each  page  meets  eyes  of  mine  with  charmed  looks, 
My  heart  is  yours,  O  little  band  of  books ! 


35 


GREEK  ART 

'MBODIED  Beauty  with  indwelling  Soul 
Survives  in  what  it  wrought ;  but  goddess 

fair 

And  columned  Temple  move  us  to  despair 
Of  emulation :  From  beyond  the  goal 
At  which  we  pause,  Greek  Art  surveyed  the  Whole 
Of  Life ;  espoused  its  Scheme ;  untrammeled  dare 
Attempt  the  heavenly  Heights,  where  blows  an  air, 
Native  to  those  the  Muses  Nine  enroll. 
Reverent — not  craven — toward  the  Unknown 

Power 

It  found  and  feared  not ;  with  serenity 
Trusting  itself  to  Growth,  as  any  flower 
Unfolds  out  of  an  inmost  symmetry, 
The  Art  of  Greece — untouched  by  primal  ban  — 
"Pursue  Perfection!"  cries  to  downcast  Man. 


36 


PENALTY 

"Pleads  for  itself  the  fact— 
As  Nature,  unrepentant,  leaves  her  every  act." 

O  GREAT  grey  Waves  that  clamor  to  the 
shore 
And  leap  against  the  cliffs  with  loud  assault 
Of  gathered  thunders  from  that  mystic 

vault 

Whose  limits  ending  still  stretch  on  before ; 
O  lion  waves  with  mad  heroic  roar 
Deafening  to  meaner  sounds  'gainst  black  basalt 
Of  frowning  cliff!  —  I  count  it  as  the  fault 
Of  partial  comprehension  to  deplore 
That  law  which  drives  unerring  to  their  bounds 
Life's  mighty  forces — love  where  love  belongs, 
Failures,  successes — in  the  unending  rounds 
Where  Nemesis  rebukes  ancestral  wrongs 
With  penalties,  wherefrom  no  power  to  save 
Between  the  iron  cliff  and  breaking  wave ! 


37 


SPECULATION 

"Sans  me  plaindre  ou  m'effrayer, 
Je  vais  ou  va  toute  chose, 
Ou  va  la  feu  We  de  rose 
Et  la  feuille  de  laurier." 

'ND  is  death  then  a  victory  or  defeat, 
Transition  unremembered,  or  the  end 
Of  conscious  being,  point  where  Self  shall 

blend 

With  Other,  Real  and  Apparent  meet 
In  that  which  gives,  and  takes,  and  is  complete? 
Or  is  this  true — as  oft  you  tell  me,  friend — 
What 's  here  amiss  by  death  at  last  we  '11  mend ; 
Through  finite  pain  progression  infinite? 
Dear  Soul !  thou  saiTst  amain  but  never  yet 
A  resting-place  has  found  for  stretched  wing ! 
Faint  sounds  thy  call  of  hope,  thy  cry  of  threat, 
To  other  soul  that  goes  not  voyaging 
But  learns,  attent,  the  laws  of  limits  set, 
And  bends  to  daily  stint,  as  bow  to  string. 


38 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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THE  LIBRARY 

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UCLA-Young  Research  Library 

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